In A Word
by Ocean
Summary: YY A collection of drabbles inspired by a daily email I receive introducing new and unique words. Each one involves our favorite couple. I hope you find them entertaining.
1. Destination

Disclaimer: Plain and simple. I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

_Edited 4-9-08_

A/N: I've been extremely sick this past week and a half – actually missed several days of work because of it. Please forgive me, but this is the reason Carry On is not ready to be updated yet. I couldn't think let alone write! However, I was able to do this short little piece, which is part of an exchange between me and Hime no Ichigo, and also the culmination of an idea I have for drabbles. I belong to A.Word.A.Day email, and thought it would be fun to pick random words and write drabbles for them on occasion. Each one will be 600 words or less which is, I believe we all know, incredibly short for me. I hope you enjoy them when they do emerge. Also, each entry will be a separate story, independent of the previous posts.

Enjoy!

- Ocean

* * *

All drabbles dedicated to Hime no Ichigo.

**wiki** (wiki) noun - From Hawaiian wiki (quick)

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Destination_  
by Ocean_

You've decided to attend college in Japan, not in the States, to be near your friend.

You take a seat outside the arts building, folding your legs on the grass, pulling your skirt over your knees, leaning back on your hand so you can easily watch the people who traverse the walkway. Your blue eyes widen in joy when you see him.

"Yuugi!"

He turns his head, searching for your voice before spotting you and waving, pausing to let a woman pass before stepping onto the grass and making his way to you. Once at your side he drops to the ground with no amount of grace and sprawls on his back.

"Lazy bum," you jest, smacking his thigh and laughing at his protesting groan.

"This campus is huge!" he says, swinging his arm in a circle before letting it drop back to the ground. "I'll never have to workout again. All I'll need to do is walk from my car to class and back. I'll be fit in a month."

You grin knowingly; Yuugi will take any excuse not to join you on your jogs around the track. Considering you're also surprised at the size of the grounds you decide to allow him a day free of the invitation and settle for a haughty smirk. You'll get him to exercise if it's the last thing you do. Your life's goal determined, you settle back to enjoy the moment. Perfectly happy with only Yuugi at your side, you aren't ashamed at the displeasure you feel when you hear the grass rustle as someone walks towards you.

Preparing to swallow the sarcasm riding your tongue in favor of offering a polite greeting – meeting new people is part of the college experience, after all – you're unable to stop the frown that forms on your lips when you notice that the newcomer's attention is focused wholly on Yuugi. Yuugi hasn't acknowledged the man, but he does so when a foot nudges his head with feigned impatience.

Lazy eyes open; brows furrow and lips pout attentively as Yuugi studies the foreign man standing above him, the man providing a closed-lip smile as his only explanation for the interruption. You can feel the confidence radiating off the Egyptian and it makes you hesitate to inject your salutation. Instead of him, you find yourself addressing your friend.

"Do you know him?" you ask Yuugi quietly, unnerved that you find yourself unable to remove your eyes from the, yes, the handsome stranger.

Yuugi shakes his head: "No." But you can see the amusement dancing in his eyes, the smirk pulling on his lips, and sadness instantly grips your heart as you feel the distance unfurl between you and your friend, for you know him, you know Yuugi and you know that look and you know how engrossed he becomes whenever he's interested in someone, but never in you, no, not in you, for reasons you've never been able to discern.

"Your name?" the stranger asks, purrs as he leans down, not far, but enough, enough to make Yuugi's eyes widen and you notice a hitch in his breath and you want to cry.

"_Wiki_," Yuugi breathes, grinning like a fool. "I like that."

"Hn," the stranger hums, nodding his head in what you can only interpret as agreement. You watch as he pulls himself straight and walks away. You watch as he doesn't wait for Yuugi, you watch as he doesn't have to, you watch as Yuugi forgets you and jumps to his feet and chases after his stranger.

University in New York sounds more appealing now.

- End

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A/N: To clarify, the POV is Anzu's. And Yuugi isn't saying that his name is 'wiki,' but is commenting on how quickly Atemu is making an advance on him and that he really likes the forwardness. Atemu, in turn, is satisfied with Yuugi's returned interest. You can assume the fun the two will have. smiles


	2. Appreciating Art

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read this story, and to those of you who encouraged me with your reviews! I truly appreciate the kindness you show to me. I realize now that I didn't make myself clear about these drabbles, so I'll rectify that here. Each entry will have its own story, be its own idea. The chapters are to stand independent of each other. Sorry to those who thought and wanted this to be a continuation of the first chapter. I just don't want to start another chaptered story until my other two are finished.

With that being said, I hope you enjoy the next installment! I'll try to answer any potential questions at the end of each entry.

- Ocean

* * *

All drabbles dedicated to Hime no Ichigo.

**echt** (ekht) German adjective: authentic; typical.

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Art Appreciation

Title of the painting: _My Lover's Will_.

The colors – imaginary, violent, swarming together in caressing waves of passion that invented tones of red, ochre, and green that had never before been seen. The strokes – indiscernible, indescribable, captivatingly new - kept eyes focused and the mind involved in an epic quest of discovery. The overall impression left the gallery patrons warmer than when they'd arrived, lips minimally parted and pupils dilated in excitement. Ask them why, and they wouldn't be able to tell you.

They had come to see the artist's work with the hope of catching a glimpse of the genius that was exhibited in each piece of art. But this painting captivated them, made them forget the other displays: the sterling sculptures of nature, the powder gradation sketches of ancient worlds, one piece of glasswork that was cobalt blue and obtuse. And still these couldn't compete with the expanse of white canvas that stretched the width of a full-sized mattress and the length of two men.

"Breath taking."

"Ingenious."

"Beautiful interpretation."

"Where's the artist?"

They didn't see him, leaning against a side wall, sipping white wine, memorizing them with worldly cinnamon eyes glowing in secretive mirth. Olive skin was exposed only occasionally; on elongated fingers curved around a glass, on wrists peaking out from too-long sleeves of a business jacket, on a lean neck wrapped in inky hair that reflected the fluorescent glare like a mirror. He was so deliciously plain that he easily melted into the edges of vision and out of the minds of the art aficionados.

He could hear the inquiries about the painting. He could not keep the smirk off his face.

"What was the inspiration?"

- _His lover eyed him curiously with expectation in his every breath, blue irises rimmed in mulberry lowering in an intimate caress across his chest. His willingness, his eagerness to participate sent the artist's mind soaring with possibilities and he knew that this artwork would be unlike any other… -_

"What medium did he use?"

- _… as he reached for the brush, soft as fingers of spun flower petals, dipping it in the first can of paint, an entrancing gold that sung of wealth, prosperity and summer. He kept his haunting gaze glued to his lover's eyes until his craft pulled it down to the sheet spread on the concrete floor, where he proceeded to saturate the echt thousand-thread count Egyptian cotton with the pattern seen in his mind's eye. He heard his lover laugh as the smaller man picked up one of the paint cans, sniffing it before dipping his finger in and tasting. "Is this…" -_

"Chocolate? I've never smelled chocolate from a painting before."

"He never ceases to surprise us with his ingenuity."

- _but this wasn't play, it was work; no matter how tempting it was to forgo the weeks of preparation and the years of training to indulge in the naked muse that stood before him, waiting to be adorned in rainbows of body paint and chocolate, eager to be manipulated, positioned, rolled and caressed against the waiting sheet… - _

"Think he'll sell it?"

The artist grinned into his wine. No. No, he'd never sell his favorite painting for it was already owned by its motivation. The game was not to sell his artwork. Rather, his goal was far more simplistic, far simpler, and far more colorful than that.

His lover emerged from the crowd and lounged on the wall beside him, glancing at the painting. "I guess it turned out alright," he said.

The artist closed his eyes in satisfaction.

_- End  
_

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A/N: To clarify, Atemu is the artist, Yuugi is his lover. Atemu's goal is simply to impress Yuugi with his work. He succeeds. The painting was made by Yuugi being covered in body paint and chocolate before Atemu rolled him around on the sheet in the motions of sex. Don't ask, I have no idea how that image came into my head!


	3. Mine Now

A/N: Perhaps not my best, but an idea that wanted out. There's a larger story here I believe but it'll have to be satisfied with itself as is. I hope it's at least pleasurable to read.

A note about Carry On may be found on my bio.

Enjoy!

- Ocean

* * *

All drabbles dedicated to Hime no Ichigo.

**adobe** (uh-DO-bee) noun: 1. An unburned, sun-dried brick made of clay and straw; 2. Silt or clay deposited by rivers, from which such bricks are made; 3. A building made of such material.  
Via Spanish and Arabic from Coptic tobe (brick). Coptic is the classical  
language of Egypt, a form of Egyptian with heavy influence from Greek.

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Mine Now

Yuugi traced his fingers along the contours of the irregular wall, his eyes admiring the ochre shimmer of the ruin while his mind entertained images of the people who had built it. How remarkable it was that a substance made of little more than clay and straw could survive hundreds of years of erosion beating at its surface relatively unscathed.

As a whole the adobe structure was beautiful to behold; from a distance with the painted sunset framing the building in alluring psychedelic shadows it gave the impression of dancing spirits. But to see the structure up close, to see the imperfections in the brick, the misalignment of placement, the wall that now leaned at a disturbing angle… to actually smell the passage of time – warm and thick, tactile, dusty, with the hint of rainwater and spruce. Even with his voluptuous lexicon there were no words Yuugi could conjure to explain the majesty of placing your hand on a piece of history.

Raising his violet eyes, which had lowered in his reverie, Yuugi pulled out of his musings when he heard the rapid clicking of a camera's shutter. Furrowed brows indicated his confusion – or was it irritation? – at being interrupted.

"It was a good shot."

"Keh." Yuugi turned his back to his boyfriend, indicating exactly what he thought a 'good shot' to be, wiggling his hips pointedly. He heard a retaliatory _click_ and smirked. "Find inspiration elsewhere."

"I did. You wandered into the frame."

Yuugi raised an eyebrow at this proclamation, considering he had taken all of two steps in fifteen minutes. Atemu had a knack for sounding indignant even when commenting on the weather. It was a quality Yuugi adored because it isolated his lover enough that he received the majority of the man's attention.

Yuugi had taken great means to discover the journalist's identity after spotting the magnificently compact and handsome man at a political rally and upon doing so had approached Atemu, offering himself to be used in whatever way was most pleasurable. Yuugi had been by Atemu's side ever since, the relationship growing into sexual intimacy, never once regretting his decision to act on the animalistic draw he'd had to the man. Atemu had yet to ask him to leave, though never had he asked him to stay; the photographer's way of showing affection and acceptance of Yuugi's presence.

Yuugi checked over his shoulder to assure Atemu's diverted interest – he was inspecting his equipment – before indulging a final moment in the ruins.

"They're beautiful," he said with quiet awe and secondary purpose. His eyes flitted over to his lover's image.

"Damn camera," Atemu muttered, shaking the instrument before taking a few test shots against the display he'd brought, giving no indication that he'd heard Yuugi's comment. "Won't capture the light correctly."

Yuugi chuckled warmly at the exponentially agitated photojournalist. Delightfully he walked to him, removing the camera from stressed hands and holding it to his face. After making a simple adjustment he took a picture of the ruin, nodding in satisfaction when he reviewed the image on the camera's screen. Yuugi handed it back to Atemu with a kiss to his cheek and went to examine the part of the ruin now in shadow. He grinned to himself when he heard an unabashedly frustrated "_Damn!_"

"You're trying too hard," Yuugi explained.

"Shut up."

Pleased with how the day was progressing Yuugi obliged and amused himself with the ruin until Atemu was ready to leave. He wasn't forced to wait long.

Yuugi always got what he wanted, and he had taken one hell of a picture.

- End


End file.
